Couples Counseling
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Inspired by the line from the Justice League episode "Wild Cards," where Harley Quinn claims she and the Joker have been to couples counseling for their relationship. This is my take on what that session might have been like.


**Couples Counseling**

"Let's just start with a couple questions. Why are you both here?"

"I'm here because I was dragged here from my cell," retorted the Joker, his arms folded across his chest as he lay on one of the two sofas in the room.

"And there's the problem in a nutshell," retorted Harley Quinn, lying in a similar attitude on the other sofa and glaring across at the Joker. "He never puts any effort into this relationship. He never addresses the issues we have, he always just expects things to work themselves out, or pretends they're not there, or sees the whole thing as one big joke. He always puts us second to everything, mayhem, destruction, Batman…"

"You leave Batsy out of this!" snapped Joker. "He's got nothing to do with this joke of a relationship! Well, I say joke, but there's actually nothing amusing about it!"

"Y'see? There he goes again – always with the jokes," muttered Harley. "I guess I should have expected him not to be the most sincere guy, being the Joker and all, but I always believed at least there might be some part of him that seriously cared about me, about us. But lately I'm beginning to think there isn't. That's why I wanted the Arkham shrinks to set up this whole couples counseling session. I think if we can just start communicating again, we'd have a chance."

"Little hard to communicate locked up in separate cells, toots," Joker retorted. "Anyway, we talk plenty. Or at least, you do. You never shut up these days, do ya, ya dumb blonde? You might not know this, Doc, but little Harley here used to be my shrink, and back then she used to listen. 'Tell me about this, Mr. Joker, tell me about that.' But now it's all me, me, me, 'I want this, Mr. J, I want that!' The greedy little brat!"

"He's the one who doesn't listen!" snapped Harley. "He never cares about what I have to say or think, and he doesn't really care about my feelings or my needs either! He's just a selfish, self-absorbed, egotistical creep!"

"Ok, I think we need to back up a bit here," said the counselor, gently. "Obviously there's a failure of communication between you two, but lots of couples hit snags like that over the course of a long relationship. How long has your relationship been?"

"You mean in total or since the last time we broke up?" asked Harley. "In total, seven years. Since the last time we broke up, about eight days."

"And what was this last break up about?" asked the counselor.

"Oh, she was cooking and I thought it would be funny to sneak up behind her and spank her with my joy buzzer, and the clumsy bitch jumped and spilled pasta sauce all over my new suit," sighed Joker. "So I tried to kill her, and things escalated from there."

"He's always doing stupid pranks like that," muttered Harley.

"Hey, you were the one who thought it would be funny to sneak up behind me and pop that paper bag while I was sawing off that shotgun!" he snapped. "Which it wasn't, by the way! I nearly cut my goddamn arm off!"

"Geez, you just can't take a joke sometimes, can you, Mr. J?" snapped Harley. "You're fine with dealing them out, but you don't like it when you get a taste of your own medicine."

"Course not, you dumb blonde, that's why I'm the Joker and not the Jokee," he retorted. "You never think, Harl, that's your problem. Not one goddamn thought in that empty blonde skull of yours. You're not clever, you're not useful, you're not funny, I don't even know why I keep you around sometimes!"

"Well, that is what we are trying to discover in this session," interrupted the counselor as Harley was about the respond with a torrent of abuse. "Seven years is a long time – there must be something about this relationship that keeps you both in it. If we can find out what that is, if we can isolate that, then maybe we can make some progress. But the only way we can do that is if you both stop flinging insults around and try to listen, to each other and to me, and to try to address some of the problems of your relationship. Will you give it that chance?"

"I will if that stupid jerk will," snapped Harley.

"I don't see that our relationship has any problems," retorted Joker. "It works fine. I tell her to do stuff, and she does what I say. The only problem is when Little Miss High and Mighty here gets on her high horse and goes off on one of her 'I deserve better' rants."

"I do deserve better!" she snapped. "I deserve a lot better than playing henchwench to a selfish guy who ignores me and abuses me! I used to be a doctor, y'know! You didn't even go to college!"

"Yeah, and how did that help you in the real world, toots?" snapped Joker. "All your education wasn't worth a goddamn thing until I completed it! You should be on your knees thanking me, not demanding crap all the time!"

"Let me just, if I may, review the beginning of your relationship," interrupted the counselor. "How did you two meet?"

"Like he said, I was his shrink here," retorted Harley. "There was an instant attraction, eyes met across a crowded asylum, and then," she sighed, dreamily. "And then my prince charming swept me off my feet, and in return I busted him outta this dump. It was the stuff of the great romances."

"When you say swept you off your feet, do you mean he was the one who made the first move?" asked the counselor. "He seduced you, as it were?"

"Gee, I think that's being a little blunt," retorted Harley. "Kinda kills the romance when you put it like that. But yeah, I guess he did."

"So you were seduced by your own patient, and entered into an illicit relationship with him," said the counselor. "One which culminated in a violent escape from this mental facility."

"You like cutting through the crap, Doc," snapped Harley. "I'm not sure I like that about you. Yeah, if you want to take all the fun and romance out of it, that's what happened. He seduced me, we had an affair, and I busted him out."

"It's not really what most people would consider a promising start to a relationship, is it?" asked the counselor, gently.

"Do I look like I care what most people think?" snapped Harley.

"No, in fact quite the opposite," she replied. "You look like the kind of woman who enjoys foiling people's expectations, and taking pleasure in what society considers to be wrong. I believe the illicitness of your relationship was and is one of its attractions. Would you say the Joker's noteriety is something that attracts you to him?"

Harley shrugged. "I guess. I mean, not many gals can say their boyfriend is the Joker, the most dangerous criminal in the world, can they? And he can be such a bad, dirty, naughty boy sometimes," she murmured, grinning at him.

"If either of us is bad, dirty, and naughty, it's you, kid," murmured Joker, smiling back. "That's why Daddy always has to spank you so hard."

"Oh, Mr. J," she breathed, gazing at him in adoration.

"So violence and the potential for violence is something you find attractive," concluded the counselor. "And Mr. Joker, would you say part of the appeal of the relationship for you is the power?" she asked. "You were the one who initiated the encounter with someone who was meant to be in control of you. You took the power of that relationship and turned it on its head. Was that, in your mind, a kind of joke? Was that part of the appeal of this at first?"

Joker shrugged. "I dunno. I don't think I ever thought about it that much. I needed a way out, and she was my ticket."

"So you enjoyed the idea of using her," said the counselor. "Degrading her from someone in a position of authority to a tool of yours."

"You make me sound like such a bastard when you put it like that," replied Joker.

"Is is true?" she pressed.

"I dunno," he retorted. "You're the shrink here, Doc. You figure it out."

The counselor studied him for a moment and then looked down at her notes. "I actually hate having to ask this, but how are the…um…intimate moments of your relationship?"

Joker shifted uncomfortably. "Fine," he retorted, simply.

"Few and far between," retorted Harley. "But just so completely fantastic when they happen. Nobody can rev me up like puddin' can. Although it would be nice if he did it a little more often."

"See what I mean? Greedy brat's never satisfied – always wants more," muttered Joker.

"I ain't a nymphomaniac or anything," snapped Harley. "I just don't think wanting it a little more than once a month if I'm lucky is too much to ask."

"You've had it more than once a month!" he snapped. "A few times, in fact!"

"When?" she demanded.

"How the hell should I remember when?" he snapped. "But it's happened, I can tell you that!"

"Unless you can give me specifics, Mr. J, I think you're lying," she retorted. "Cause I sure as heck don't remember it!"

"I ain't gonna give you specifics!" he snapped. "Now can we just drop this?! There ain't nothing wrong with any of that, and I'm not of a generation who feels comfortable discussing crap like that in public!"

"Yes, there is a substantial age difference between you two, isn't there?" asked the counselor. "Is that ever a cause for…dissatisfaction in your relationship?"

"Other than the fact that Mr. J don't get popular culture references that aren't about fifty years old, no," retorted Harley. "But mention anything more recent than _The Honeymooners _and he's pretty clueless."

"One of these days, Harl," Joker muttered. She stared blankly back at him and he snapped, "Don't mention it if you don't know it, you stupid dame! Jesus, you don't even get the classics! If anyone should be ashamed of their lack of knowledge about popular culture, it's you!"

"Popular culture means popular now, not a hundred years ago!" snapped Harley. "Get with the times, grandpa!"

"I meant if the age gap made any difference in the more…physical aspect of your relationship," said the counselor.

"Just what the hell are you implying, Doc?" demanded Joker.

"I think she wants to know if you need Viagra, Mr. J," replied Harley. "And no, he don't. He can always get it up when he's in the mood – he just ain't in the mood that often. And it usually takes a lotta pain to get him in the mood, but I'm pretty fine with that."

"Would you describe your relationship as sado-masochistic?" asked the counselor.

"Well, not in the traditional sense of that word," replied Harley. "We ain't very traditional about anything, in fact. But in the whole getting off on violence thing, I guess so. But it ain't as simple as he's the sadist and I'm the masochist – we occasionally switch the whole dominance thing in bed. Mr. J just loves his beatings sometimes, don't ya, puddin'?"

"Harley, stop answering her disgusting questions!" snapped Joker. "And people say _I'm_ sick! None of that is any of your business, Doc, so let's just move on to something less personal!"

"She has to be personal if she wants to help our personal relationship problems!" snapped Harley.

"I keep telling you, we ain't got relationship problems!" he shouted. "And just because you keep saying that we do don't make it true! Now just drop it, you stupid girl!"

"Y'see how he talks to me?" demanded Harley. "He's always calling me stupid and dumb and worthless…"

"Because you are stupid and dumb and worthless!" he snapped. "And this whole session is stupid and dumb and a worthless waste of my time!"

"You think trying to save our relationship is a waste of time?" demanded Harley.

"It don't need to be saved!" he shouted. "There ain't nothing wrong with it!"

"From an outsider's perspective, there obviously is," interrupted the counselor. "It's volatile, violent, abusive, unstable, dependent, obsessive, and blatantly one-sided. Harley, I've seen literally no evidence that this man cares about you any more than as something he can use for whatever needs he may have at the time."

"Hey, I care about her a lot less than that!" snapped Joker. "I've tried to kill her a couple times, but the little brat just won't die! And she won't take the hint either! So as long as I'm stuck with her, I just make the best of it! Because that's the kinda guy I am – happy and positive and always making the best outta a horrible situation!"

"It's my professional opinion that you've convinced yourself that he loves you, and that this relationship is something you want, because you perversely believe that something that seems wrong must be right," continued the counselor, addressing Harley. "It's the same reason you get a thrill out of being with him – because you know he's an evil man who doesn't deserve your love, which is the very reason you shower your love upon him."

"I think evil is a bit strong a word," retorted Harley, immediately defensive. "Just 'cause Mr. J sometimes goes on killing sprees and stuff, it don't make him evil, or undeserving of love. There ain't nothing wrong with liking a man who's a bit more…forceful. If I'm honest, I'm sick of the media portraying the ideal man as one who's caring and sensitive and all that crap. A real man don't fawn all over a girl, don't go around saying he can't live without her and clinging to her all the damn time like a lost puppy. That's just creepy and unattractive. Be a man, for Christ's sake, and grow a pair! A real man is masterful and dominant and uses a firm hand to keep a girl in line. And a girl likes a real man," she sighed, gazing at Joker dreamily.

"No, most women like to be treated with respect and consideration from their partners," replied the counselor. "And moments of tenderness and real affection certainly aren't out of place. But this is a problem deep in your psyche, Harley, and I believe it can be fixed. Unlike this so-called relationship, which is doomed. You two don't belong together."

"Hey, just because I like a different type of man to you, sweetheart, don't mean I have a problem!" snapped Harley. "Variety is the spice of life and all that crap! The world would be a pretty boring place if we all wanted the same kinda guy or the same kinda relationship! And I want me and Mr. J's relationship to work because it's just the best for both of us!"

"It's classic dependency," retorted the counselor.

"My Harley girl ain't classic nothing!" interjected Joker, angrily. "You can't say much for her, but you can say she's special! I wouldn't put up with just an ordinary gal!"

"Thank you, puddin'," sniffed Harley. "Geez, Doc, I had some faith that you might be able to help us, but if you can't even understand us, I guess I was wrong. How dare you condemn us? You're supposed to have some professional insight into this, not just parrot what everybody else always says about us!"

"They say it because it's true," retorted the counselor. "I've found nothing in this session to reveal any aspect of your relationship in a different light, and certainly nothing that keeps the two of you together. There's no hope of this relationship succeeding in the long term. You've convinced yourself that you're in love with him, Harley, and that he's in love with you too, when the reality is you're laboring under a delusion of your own making, and he resents and loathes you. I can help you work out these issues individually, but first you have to accept that this relationship is a joke."

"Hey, nobody tells me what's a joke!" shouted Joker, standing up furiously.

"At the beginning of the session, Mr. Joker, you yourself described this relationship as a joke…" began the counsellor.

"Yeah, I can do that!" he shouted. "Because I'm the Joker! You can't, because you ain't! You probably wouldn't know a good joke if it hit you in the face! Dames usually don't – that's why Harley girl here is never funny!"

"She certainly can't seem to recognize the joke that is this relationship," retorted the counselor. "But you're right, it's not a funny joke – it's just incredibly physically and psychologically damaging for both people in it. Especially Harley. Why don't you do the decent thing now, Mr. Joker, and break her out of this delusion? Go over there, take her hand, look into her eyes, and tell her you don't love her. It will cause her tremendous pain, but it's the only way she can begin to recover and heal from this relationship and all the damage you've caused her."

"Maybe you didn't understand me the first time," retorted Joker. "I'm the Joker. I don't like helping people recover and heal. I like keeping them in perpetual pain."

"Is that what keeps you in this relationship, then?" asked the counselor. "The fact that you constantly have someone you can hurt? Is that really all she is to you? No more than a punching bag? This is someone who has given you her selfless and devoted love, and you return that with nothing but violence and aggression and cruelty, and not even a hint of affection. I can certainly understand that about you, because I believe you to be utterly evil and irredeemable. But Harley does not. Are you admitting that is the truth to her? Because if so, I'd like her to tell me how that doesn't make you evil."

"You're wrong," murmured Harley, tears in her eyes. "Puddin' does love me, he does! Just because you can't see it, just because you don't get it, don't mean it's not there!"

"I'm giving him the chance to tell you what he really feels," replied the counselor. "Perhaps you'll believe the truth everyone has been telling you only when it comes from his own lips."

"Puddin'?" murmured Harley, gazing at him with tears sliding down her face. "You do love me, don't you, puddin'? You do love me, right?"

He looked from her to the counselor, and then back. Then a smile lit up his face as he gently approached Harley, sitting down next to her on the sofa. "Harley," he murmured, taking her hand. "Harley, Harley, Harley, my silly little Harley baby. What has Daddy said about asking him questions?"

"That you don't like them," murmured Harley. "That you don't like a useless dame like me poking her nose in where it don't belong."

"That's right, pooh," he said, patting her head.

"But couldn't you answer just this one, Mr. J?" she murmured, gazing at him hopefully. "It's really important to me to hear the answer."

He chuckled. "If it's important to you, baby, then sure," he said. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear, and Harley's eyes instantly lit up.

"Oh, Mr. J!" she breathed. "Oh, I knew it, puddin'! I knew we were soulmates!" She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him lovingly.

"How did he answer the question?" asked the counselor.

"Oh, he didn't," replied Harley, waving her hand dimissively. "But he's right – I shouldn't have asked that stupid question. It gets old really fast, and I know the answer. No, he told me a joke."

"A joke?" repeated the counselor, incredulously.

"Uh huh. And I was just thinking about that joke just as he said it. It's like he read my thoughts! Which only soulmates can do, y'know," she said, matter-of-factly. "I don't know why I ever doubted it!"

"And what was this joke?" asked the counselor.

"What's white and black and red all over?"

"And what is the answer?"

"A shrink being beaten to death with a chair!" laughed Joker, seizing a chair and slamming it into the counselor's face. Harley giggled and clapped her hands in excitement as Joker continued to hit the counselor with the chair, laughing as he did so.

"Oh, Mr. J!" sighed Harley when he dropped the chair at last, covered in blood and grinning. He held out his arms to her and she ran into them with a squeak of happiness.

"C'mon, kid, let's blow this dump," said Joker, breaking off two chair legs to use as clubs and handing one to Harley. "I was gonna be kinda mad at you for making me suffer through this, but it proved useful in the end, didn't it?"

"Yep. I think our relationship is stronger than ever, Mr. J," sighed Harley, kissing his cheek.

He pinched her cheek affectionately and then opened the door a crack, peering out into the hall. "Two guards coming this way – when I give the word, we rush 'em."

"Anything you say, Mr. J," she murmured. She glanced down at the body at her feet and kicked it contemptuously. "That's for saying we don't belong together. Jerk," she muttered, raising her club. "It's the Joker and Harley Quinn, and that's the way it'll always be. Forever."

He grinned, kissed her, then threw open the door and cried, "Let's beat it, kiddo!"

"Rightaroonie, Mr. J!" she giggled, as they clubbed a guard each in the face, knocking them out. And they rushed off down the hall, laughing together.

**The End**


End file.
